


Golden Nightmares

by GothicTardis



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Episode Fix-It: s02e04 The Girl in the Fireplace, Episode Rewrite: s02e04 The Girl in the Fireplace, Episode: s02e04 The Girl in the Fireplace, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-08-31 18:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8588692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothicTardis/pseuds/GothicTardis
Summary: ~+ A re-write of The Girl in the Fireplace +~ . . . When a little girl discovers that monsters are real, nightmares old and new come to light.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Though many writers have created lovely fix-its for gitf, I decided it would be good therapy to make one myself. I’m submitting one chapter per week. :)
> 
>  
> 
> Note: I only re-wrote as much as I felt was necessary, so much of the original structure is left intact.

A cylinder spaceship rolled silently through space, and in its hull the turquoise outline of a box faltered in and out of reality, groaning from the effort of returning to a solid existence. The sounds of machinery ended, the double-doors sprang open, and Mickey Smith stumbled out its doors with a huge, goofy grin on his face.

“It's a spaceship! Brilliant, I got a spaceship on my first go!”

The Doctor and Rose followed him out, eyes wandering the dim room. The space was enormous, and definitely part of some interplanetary vessel. The walls stretching up fifty meters were a metallic blue, and striped by thick clusters of tangled wire. They were standing beside a platform riddled with levers and wires, but the floor beneath was scattered with odd bits and pieces of equipment.

Rose frowned and peered over the Doctor’s shoulder. “It looks kind of abandoned…” The tall, thin man was squinting at readings from the platform’s scanner. “Anyone on board?”

“Nah, nothing here—well, nothing dangerous. Well, not that dangerous.” He hesitated, his gaze flickering towards Rose. “You know what, I'll just have a quick scan… in case there's anything dangerous.”

“So, what's the date? How far have we gone?” she asked.

Just for Mickey, they had decided on a randomized destination. This special air of mystery was one that Rose and the Doctor favored.

“About three thousand years into your future, give or take.” The Doctor flicked a switch on a console. There was a faint hum as the ceiling slid away to reveal an indigo sky sprinkled with stars. “Fifty first century. Diagmar Cluster… you're a long way from home, Mickey. Two and a half galaxies!”

Mickey pressed his face to a porthole across the room and gawked. Rose had used to do that, when she’d first left the Earth behind. 

The adrenaline, rushing pulse, and expecting the unexpected all rushed back from distant memory, and a hint of a smile curved her lips. So this was why the Doctor had travelled with so many Earth-bound humans. 

Though a conversation with her old friend could hardly be managed without them both betraying shared discomfort, Rose pushed that aside.

“Mickey Smith, meet the universe,” she murmured.

“It's so realistic!” he gushed.

The Doctor was rummaging through that mess of wires and bolts she’d noticed. He nudged a pile with the toe of his sneaker, grimacing.

“Dear me, had some cowboys in here. Got a ton of repair work going on.” His eyes lit on another set of dials. “Now that's odd, look at that. All the warp engines are going… full capacity! There's enough power running through this ship to punch a hole in the universe… and we're not moving, so where's all that power going?”

“Where'd all the crew go?” Rose asked, her waved hair whipping to the side as she glanced towards the nearest corridor. They should have been discovered by now.

“Good question,” the Doctor muttered. “No life readings on board.” He sniffed. “Can you smell that?”

“Yeah, someone's cooking.”

“Sunday roast, definitely,” Mickey joked.

The Doctor poked something else on the console, and a wall shifted behind them. The paneled wall that appeared was painted cream, and stood in bizarre contrast to the steaming pumps at their back. Built into its center was a large, ornate fireplace with a clock on the mantel.

“Well, there's something you don't see in your average spaceship,” the Doctor said, interest creeping into his voice. He approached the fireplace and whipped out the sonic screwdriver. “Eighteenth century… French… Nice mantle. Not a hologram. It's not even a reproduction! This actually _is_ an eighteenth century French fireplace.”

“There's another room through there,” Rose murmured, crouching.

“But that’s the outer hull of the ship,” Mickey insisted.

The Doctor noticed Rose kneeling before the dancing flames that added an auburn glow to her natural light. Unexpectedly, her face broke into a wide smile. “Oh, hello there,” she said softly to the fire.

The Doctor crouched down to investigate, and couldn’t help smiling too. A little girl’s skeptical face looked back at them.

“Mademoiselle, what are you doing in my fireplace?” 

“Oh, we’re just doing a routine… fire check,” the Doctor put in helpfully, and Rose shot him an amused glare.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Rose asked.

“Reinette,” the girl answered with a hesitant smile. Reinette’s long blonde hair was draped over an old-fashioned nightgown, and the Doctor peered over her shoulder.

“Reinette! That's a lovely name,” said the Doctor approvingly. “Can you tell me where you are at the moment, Reinette?”

“In my bedroom.”

“And where's your bedroom? Where do you live, Reinette?”

“Paris, of course.” She gave an incredulous laugh that meant he was being humored.

“Paris, right! And can you tell me what year it is?”

“Of course I can! Seventeen hundred and twenty seven.”

“Right, lovely. One of my favourites!” He hesitated. “August is rubbish though… stay indoors. Okay, that's all for now, thanks for your help! Hope you enjoy the rest of the fire. Night-night.”

“Goodnight, Monsieur.”

The Doctor beamed at Reinette one last time before straightening to address the gang. Mickey was scowling.

“You said this was the fifty-first century!” he accused. 

The Doctor shrugged. “I also said this ship was generating enough power to punch a hole in the universe. I think we just found the hole.” He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Must be a spatio-temporal hyperlink.”

“What’s that?” 

“No idea. Just made it up. Didn't want to say ‘magic door’.”

Mickey rolled his eyes towards Rose meaningfully. He never _had_ thought much of the Doctor’s supposed abilities.

“And on the other side of this _‘magic door’_ , is France in 1727?” Rose asked the Doctor, grinning expectantly.

“Well, she was speaking French. Right period French, too.”

By now the Doctor’s attentions were being spent on the fireplace, and his screwdriver’s faint blue glow was tracing the intricate woodwork.

“She was speaking English, I heard her,” Mickey insisted.

Rose shrugged. “That's the Tardis. Translates for you.”

“Gotcha!” the Doctor roared with satisfaction as he located the hyper-link. “Here we go.”

Rose rushed to his side. “Hang on, I’ll come with you!” 

“What, and leave Mister Mickey-Micks all alone on his first trip? Really, Rose,” he scolded unconvincingly.

Mickey was protesting that he didn’t need a sitter, but it was background buzz in Rose’s head as her eyes followed the Doctor. Somehow he had spoken all of that without meeting her gaze once.

He had slipped a few hours ago. Had broken his own unspoken rule and told her she was different. That she wouldn’t be left behind like the others. But he had made that promise in agony... as though she were falling to dust before his eyes.

 

_“I don't age... I regenerate. But humans decay. You wither and you die. Imagine watching that happen to someone you--”_

 

Was this why she sometimes found him staring into empty corners with hell in his eyes?

 

_“You can spend the rest of your life with me, but I can't spend the rest of mine with you. I have to live on. Alone. That's the curse of the Time Lords.”_

 

He kicked something in the woodwork and the entire section of wall began to rotate.

“Doctor, wait!” she shouted, but the door was already grinding to a halt with the Doctor on the opposite side.


	2. Chapter 2

Refusing to look back, he was gone before Rose could protest. Not just a wall lay between them now, but centuries and galaxies as well. He needed the space to think. 

They _both_ needed space to breathe sensibly. Space was always brilliant, though best enjoyed in time machines with steaming teapots and... someone to share it with.

The Doctor had never dared believe he could keep Rose. He didn’t have the right to hold her to his side when he owed her so much more than he could ever repay. This was for the best. For both of them.

She would understand. 

 

When he turned, the room was dark. He could just make out the narrow bed in the center, and a hazy blue light glowing behind the long, heavy drapes to his right. His trainers moved soundlessly over the plush rugs, and as he brushed aside the nearest curtain his fingers felt the sharp sting of frigid air.

Even at night in the dead of winter Paris was alive with the rattle of carriages drawn by weary horses, and tightly bundled wanderers fleeing the pelting snowflakes. Lampposts sputtered a mystic yellow glow over the stone structures and the thick layer of snow and ice that coated it all.

The Doctor heard a soft gasp behind him and turned quickly from the window. Reinette sat up stiffly in her bed and stared at him with wide eyes.

“It’s okay, don’t scream,” he soothed. “It’s me! The fireplace man. Look,” he stepped towards her and used his screwdriver to light the candle at her nightstand. “We were talking just a moment ago—I was in your fireplace.”

“Monsieur, that was weeks ago. That was months!”

“Really?” He rubbed the back of his neck and walked over to the fireplace, tapping it experimentally. “Oh, must be a loose connection. Need to get a man in.”

“Who are you? And what are you doing here?” she demanded, but the Doctor’s eyes were locked on the mantle clock. A spiderweb of cracks was spread across the glass face, obscuring the time.

“Okay, that’s scary.”

“You’re scared of a broken clock?”

“Just a bit scared, yeah. Just a little tiny bit. Because, you see, if this clock’s broken, and it’s the only clock in the room, then what’s that?” Seconds passed as the entire room echoed with unnaturally loud hollow ticking.

 

_Tick tock tick tock._

 

The Doctor turned from the clock, and his eyes were wide with caution as they flickered over the room. “Because, you see, that’s not a clock. You can tell by the resonance… Too big. Six feet, I’d say. The size of a man.”

Reinette’s voice quavered, seeing the seriousness in the stranger’s face. “What is it?” she pleaded.

“Now, let’s think. If you were a thing that ticked and you were hiding in someone’s bedroom, first thing you do, break the clock. No one notices the sound of one clock ticking, but two? You might start to wonder if you’re really alone.”

The Doctor stepped slowly towards Reinette’s bed, and crouched beside it. “Stay on the bed,” he told her gently, wishing he could do something about the fear in her eyes. “Right in the middle—don’t put your hands or feet over the edge.”

He lifted the bed sheet and reached under the bed. Flicking on the screwdriver, the blue light scanned the dusty area—and something slashed at him. Tumbling backwards, he froze as his eyes locked on a pair of bronze-buckled shoes standing by the other side of the bed. Slowly, painstakingly, he lifted his eyes over the bed.

Reinette was still watching him, still terrified, and behind her stood a tall figure dressed in eighteenth century French garb, with a macabre, grinning porcelain mask where a face should have been.

“Reinette… don’t look round,” he whispered.

“You, stay exactly where you are,” he commanded the figure, but after a moment glanced towards Reinette with growing realization. “Hold still, let me look.” The Doctor took Reinette’s head in his hands, squinting as he gently probed her mind. “You’ve been scanning her brain! What, you’ve crossed two galaxies and thousands of years just to scan a child’s brain? What could there be in a little girl’s mind worth blowing a hole in the universe?”

“I don’t understand,” Reinette said, trembling. “It wants me?” She turned and looked into the masked face. “You want me?”

The head jerked to face her with an unnatural click. **_“Not yet. You are incomplete,”_** a digital voice answered.

“Incomplete? What’s that mean, incomplete? You can answer her, you can answer me! What do you mean incomplete?” The Doctor’s voice sharpened with anger, and it seemed to bring the android to life. The joints moved with sharp, oddly rapid precision as it moved a perfect square around the bed towards the Doctor, who brandished the sonic screwdriver like a weapon. The droid raised its hand likewise, and a two-pronged blade shot out from beneath the frilled sleeve, barely an inch from the Doctor’s throat.

“Monsieur, be careful!” Reinette cried, and the Doctor’s eyes darkened.

“Just a nightmare, Reinette, don’t worry about it.” The blade swung at the Doctor, but he dodged it. “Even monsters under the bed have nightmares, don’t you, monster?” The droid swung again, and this time when he dodged, the blade buried itself in the fireplace mantel.

“What do monsters have nightmares about?”

The Doctor kicked the mechanism in the fireplace and it began to rotate, carrying the monster and the Doctor out of view. “Me! Ha!” The Doctor prided himself in sighting a smile on Reinette’s face before the wall blocked her from view.

 

+++

 

“Doctor!”

The Doctor spun away from the wall, grabbed a massive gun from a nearby rack and sprayed a white vapor over the droid, which was uselessly jerking at its arm stuck in the mantle. Rose flinched away from the frosty wave of air that swept her face, and then watched as the misted figure ticked to a stop.

“Excellent. Ice gun!” Mickey crowed appreciatively.

“Fire extinguisher,” the Doctor corrected, and tossed it to Rose.

“Where did that thing come from?” she gasped out, fumbling under the weight of the massive instrument.

“Here.”

“So why is it dressed like that?” Mickey asked. The gaudy mask looked even eerier caked in ice.

“Field trip to France,” the Doctor explained. “That would explain the months that passed for Reinette.”

He approached the droid thoughtfully. “Hm. Some kind of basic camouflage protocol. Nice needlework… shame about the face.” The Doctor knocked off the mask, and the dark curly wig fell away, revealing a transparent glass head enclosing sparkling clockwork gears. The Doctor’s jaw dropped and his eyes glowed.

“Oh, you are _beautiful!_ No, really, you are. You're _gorgeous!_ ” he slipped his spectacles over the sharp bridge of his nose and peered closer. “Look at that… Space age clockwork, I love it. I've got chills! Listen, seriously, I mean this from the heart… and by the way, count those… it would be a crime—it would be an act of _vandalism_ to disassemble you…” A mischievous light entered his eyes, and he lifted his screwdriver. “But that won't stop me.”

Just then the tiny gears whorled to life and the android vanished into streaks of light.

“Short range teleport! Can't have got far—could still be on board.” The Doctor backed towards the fireplace. “Don't go looking for it!”

“Where're you going now?” Rose demanded, the sour bite of frustration in her throat. “If that thing’s dangerous then we should deal with it!”

“I need to check on Reinette—back in a sec,” he rattled, and the fireplace was rotating again before she could protest.

Rose stared at the wall for a moment and heaved a sigh. She slipped the thick fabric strap of the ‘ice gun’ over her shoulder and tested the weight in her hands. She eyed the nearest door, still unopened and unexplored. If the Doctor was gonna be useless, _she_ didn’t have to be.

“He said not to look for it,” Mickey reminded her.

“Yeah, he did,” Rose agreed, looking at him pointedly.

He grinned and grabbed the other fire extinguisher from the rack while she laughed.

“Now you're getting it!”


	3. Chapter 3

The other side of the fireplace was flooded with morning sunshine, and the Doctor scanned the chamber with concern.

“Reinette?” he called carefully as he ambled to the center of the room. “Just checking you're okay…”

The elegant, glittering décor of the room seemed far too mature for a child. Wandering idly, the Doctor let his fingers pluck the strings on a nearby harp. If he hadn’t known better the Doctor would have thought this a different room altogether. 

_“Ahem.”_

The subtle noise made the Doctor whirl, and he saw it had been made by a blonde young woman in a patterned gown, who wore a curious smile on her face.

“Oh, hello.” He put on his friendly smile. “Um, I was just looking for Reinette. This is still her room, isn't it?” The woman smiled broader, and the Doctor took that as a sign that she knew the girl. “I've been away… not sure how long.”

 _“Reinette! We're ready to go,”_ a woman’s voice called from around the corner, and the Doctor’s jaw dropped.

“Go to the carriage, Mother, I will join you there,” Reinette called back, keeping her eyes on the Doctor’s face. Finally, she spoke to him. “It is customary, I think, to have an imaginary friend only during one's childhood. You are to be congratulated on your persistence.”

“I suppose… I’m a bit late…” faltered the Doctor inadequately.

The girl stepped close enough to touch him, and inspected his face. “And you do not appear to have aged a _single_ day. That is tremendously impolite of you.”

Finally the Doctor gathered himself enough to use his mouth properly. “Right, yes—sorry. Listen—lovely to catch up, but better be off, eh? We’re both awaited elsewhere, I take it.”

The girl’s smile turned rueful. “And I’ve awaited you since I was seven years old. You have remained little more than a dream.” Her hand reached to touch the Doctor’s face, and he tensed instinctively. “You seem to be flesh and blood at any rate, but this is absurd. Reason tells me you cannot be real,” she mused.

“Oh, you never want to listen to reason.” He winked as he pulled out the sonic screwdriver and held it to his ear. Sketchy readings provoked a frown. “Unreasonable is my middle name--but don’t tell Rose I said that.”

An irritated male voice called down the corridor. _“Mademoiselle! Your mother grows impatient.”_

“A moment!” she snapped. She turned back to the Doctor, but by now he was absorbed in his screwdriver.

“Now this is tricky piece of work,” he muttered to himself. “That portal has to be a _monstrous_ lump of engineering to be as unstable as all that.”

When the Timelord finally looked up, he was silenced by the unidentifiable look in Reinette’s eyes. One of her hands came to rest on his chest as the soft fingers of the other stroked his cheek.

“So many questions, so little time,” she said softly.

“Sorry, what—”

Before he could finish his sentence the woman pulled his face down to hers. She kissed him passionately, pushing him backwards until the carved corners of the fireplace ground into his back.

For a double-heartbeat he was too stunned to react--but good sense returned and the Doctor detached her face from his… with some difficulty.

He gulped as he eyed her and cringed. “Honestly, I say this with _no_ offense intended—but you were a little girl four minutes ago!”

Reinette blinked, and gave the Doctor space as he smoothed out his rumpled jacket and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

“We have had an unusual experience, to be sure,” said Reinette as she recovered her composure. “But how, fireplace man, could you say it has been four minutes? Ten years is no short amount of time…”

_“Mademoiselle Poisson!”_

Reinette took hasty steps out of the room, with a last curious glance thrown in his direction. Left alone, the name sunk in and the Doctor’s eyes widened by at least thirty percent.

“Hold on, did he say _Poisson?_ ”

 

+++

 

With a stylish roll Mickey tumbled into the first corridor of the ship, aiming the fire-extinguisher around like a gun from his Playstation. He grinned back at Rose.

“All clear, soldier?” she teased, and he waved her a salute before continuing down the corridor.

There was an electric whizz, and Rose saw a camera angling snake-like towards Mickey as if to analyze him.

“Look at this!” he called her over, and she peered up cautiously. “That's an eye in there… That's a real eye!”

It did look like a real eye, and adding to the effect, a thin metal visor blinked over it when it craned towards her as well. Uneasy, Rose was about to tell Mickey to step back when it abruptly retreated into the bulkhead. Cautiously, Rose flipped open a small hatch near the floor.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

Inside was a small compartment lined with pipes and wires, and at the end was a fleshy pink object that convulsed and shuddered as though still alive.

_Thump-thump, thump-thump._

“What is that? What's that in the middle there?” asked Mickey. “Looks like it's wired in.”

“It's a heart, Mickey,” Rose’s voice quavered slightly, and she swallowed with difficulty. “It's a human heart.”

 

+++

 

“Rose?” the Doctor called, his voice sounding childlike and lost. He wandered down yet another corridor, and it was likewise abandoned.

“Every time it's rule one,” he grumbled. “ _Don't wander off._ I tell them, I do. Rule one! There could be anything on this ship…”

The Doctor rounded a corner and stopped short. He blinked. The tacked up white horse in the hall flicked his tail contemptuously, and the two eyed each other suspiciously. After long moments, the hooved one ambled closer.

Warm horse breath snorted into the Timelord’s face.

 

+++

 

The atmosphere of the ship was thick and stale, so by the time Rose saw light leaking around the edges of a door there was no hesitation. She pushed. Immediately drenched in open sunlight and a thick, sweet, aroma, she sighed with relief. Squinting into the light, she took it all in.

A long, lush, grassy stretch, where at the end lay a strip of elegant housing. Here and there, contented ladies and gentlemen wandered among the trees and pools in mid-seventeenth century elegant dress. The nearest pair were women, one blonde and wearing embroidered cream, while the other, dressed similarly, had dark skin and hair. They were laughing together, arm in arm, and sharing a parasol.

Rose glanced back and saw Mickey slip out of an abandoned-looking barn. They were shielded from curious glances by a cluster of bushes and a stone fence that reached her middle. Rose leaned over the partition to watch the pair of women.

“Oh, Catherine, you are too wicked,” the blonde one chuckled.

“Oh, speaking of wicked, I hear Madame de Chateauroux is ill and close to death.” Catherine began coolly.

“Yes... I am _devastated,_ ” the blonde woman replied with exaggerated remorse, and both broke into laughter.

“Oh, indeed. I myself am frequently inconsolable! The King will therefore be requiring a new mistress…”

A bit nauseated, Rose rolled her eyes and turned to her friend. “There’s something odd about this setup, Mickey… Why would 50th century tourists form a link to a little girl’s bedroom?”

Mickey watched her with amusement. “Is this like, normal for you? Is this an average day?”

“Life with the Doctor, Mickey? No more average days.” She paused, then grinned at him. “You know what? I think you’re gonna love it.”

“Maybe.”

Mickey’s response was quiet, and Rose was already distracted. Her body was stiff and alert.

“Hold on, did she just say Reinette?” She leaned over the stone fence and squinted for a better look. “It can’t be…” At just that moment the blonde woman chose to turn her head, and Rose ducked behind an urn just in time.

“I’m sure there are plenty of Reinettes in France, Rose.”

“But the Doctor said that there was a time lapse between when we spoke to the little girl and when he checked her bedroom. Still, for there to be a jump like this…?” Rose peeked up over the fence, only to duck down again. Mickey was looking at her like she was stupid. “Well they’re both blonde!”

“—said goldilocks,” Mickey mocked, grinning, and Rose jabbed him with an elbow. “Oi!”

Rose pressed her cheek into the rough stone of the nearest pillar. The young woman currently under discussion was still facing her, and Rose got a clear look at a stunning, heart shaped face, framed by gold ringlets falling about her shoulders.

“Is something wrong, my dear?” the darker woman asked, seeing her friend’s distraction.

“Not wrong, no,” she replied, but continued looking closely in Rose’s direction. 

Rose recalled the soft young face of little Reinette. She struggled to find some tell-tale likeness between the two faces, but as the woman continued on her way Rose gave up. A face could change a lot through the stages of a woman’s life.

Heavy footfalls approached from behind, and Rose spun around. She found herself staring cross-eyed at a gray, velvet nose that whuffled moist air into her face.

“Madame de Pompadour yet again,” said the Doctor to Rose’s right, staring thoughtfully after the distant women.

“Again…” Rose said, pushing the horse’s nose away. “So she’s the little girl?”

“Yup,” he replied perkily, and gave her a smirk. “I just stumbled into grown-up-Reinette through the other time window, and that’s her alright. The question _is,_ why is a fifty-first century spaceship following the life of a single woman? We’ve got a mystery on our hands, Rose Tyler!”

“Every woman in Paris knows your ambitions,” Catherine continued, her voice carried by a faint breeze.

“Every woman in Paris shares them.”

“You know of course that the King is to attend the Yew Tree ball?”

“As am I.”


	4. Chapter 4

“So what have you been up to?” Rose asked as they filed into the spaceship and headed down the next corridor. The horse took up the rear.

“Oh, this and that. Became the imaginary friend of a future French aristocrat…” the Doctor eyed Rose. “…I’ll tell you about that later… Picked a fight with a clockwork man…”

There was an equine snort.

“—oh, and I met a horse.”

Mickey eyed the large animal. “What was a horse doing on a spaceship?” 

“Mickey, what's pre-Revolutionary France doing on a spaceship? Get a little perspective!” retorted the Doctor.

They reached a large glass window in the wall and gathered around it with interest.

“I think we're looking through a mirror,” Rose said with wonder.

They were looking in on a beautiful room, filled with trappings that could only belong to royalty. The double-doors on the opposite wall opened, and a dark-haired man in tailored tan coat entered with two soldiers-- or bodyguards. He gestured at them, and both bowed before leaving the room.

“Blimey, look at this guy. Who does he think he is?” scoffed Mickey.

The Doctor didn’t spare him a glance.

“The King of France. As I was saying before… See these?” He gestured to the tinted window. “They're all over the place. On every deck. Gateways to history, but not just any old history…”

The doors opened, and Reinette entered, dressed in finery. She curtsied deeply before the King.

The Doctor tapped the window.

“—Hers. Time windows deliberately arranged along the life of one particular woman. A spaceship from the fifty-first century stalking a woman from the eighteenth. _Why?”_

“So who is Reinette exactly, if she can talk to the King like this?” asked Rose, watching as the woman began to circle the King with a flirtatiously light touch to his shoulders.

“Jeanne-Antoinette Poisson, known to her friends as Reinette. One of the most accomplished women who ever lived.”

“So has she got plans of being the Queen, then?”

The Doctor shook his head. “No, he's already got a Queen. Since the age of nine Reinette’s mother has overseen her training in the arts, in hope of her daughter becoming King Louis XV’s mistress. She should be about twenty-four now. _Brilliant_ woman… Later on she became something of a political figure.”

“So, sort of… My Fair Lady?”

“Symbolically, yes.”

Rose smirked. Back when the Doctor had a fondness for leather she had needed bananas to bribe him to watch the musical with her at her mum’s flat.

“I think this is the night they met,” the Doctor continued. “The night of the Yew Tree ball. In no time flat, she'll get herself established as his official mistress, with her own rooms at the palace. Even her own title: Madame de Pompadour.”

Seemingly indignant, the King left the room and shut the door firmly behind him, but Reinette didn’t seem discouraged. Moving towards their mirror, Reinette adjusted her hair and skirt with a smile on her face.

“The Queen must have loved her,” Rose muttered, feeling a pang of sympathy for the absent woman.

“Oh, she did… They got on quite well,” the Doctor said matter-of-factly, and she shot him an incredulous look.

“The King's wife and the King's girlfriend?” Mickey mocked.

“Well, they got on better than earlier mistresses anyway,” the Doctor amended. “The other ones got a bit uppity around Queen Marie, and set the King’s conscience at work. Not the best guarantee of a prosperous affair, eh?”

Rose moved closer to the window and pressed her palm against the glass; she looked straight into the woman’s eyes. Rose’s hazy reflection tracing over the glass division showed the Doctor her thoughtful eyes.

“I keep looking for some sign of that little girl in her face,” she murmured, half to herself. “She’s changed a lot, hasn’t she?”

 

Reinette turned around and started, seeing a woman facing the corner.

“How long have you been standing there? Show yourself!”

Slowly, jerkily, the figure turned. Hollow black eyes grinned at Reinette. 

Almost before the young woman had time to gasp, Rose had shouldered her way through the time window. Hoisting the ice-gun, she showered the android with white mist. 

As the Droid stiffened, Rose lowered her weapon and smirked at the stunned woman beside her. “Hello Reinette... hasn’t time flown?”

She spent a long moment staring at Rose before noticing the Doctor, who had followed her.

“Fireplace man!”

Suddenly the costumed droid creaked loudly, and there was a faint whirring.

“What's it doing?” Mickey asked.

“Switching back on. Melting the ice,” the Doctor said grimly.

“And then what?”

“Then it kills everyone in the room. Focuses the mind, doesn't it?”

The droid suddenly came to life, and straightened. Its razor edged blade slashed for Rose’s throat. She staggered out of the weapon’s reach with a shuddering breath.

“Who are you? Identify yourself!” the Doctor barked, and the machine halted. Rose had her gun ready, but paused. The droid didn’t respond.

Exasperated, the Doctor looked over at Reinette. “Order it to answer me.”

She looked at him with surprise. “Why should it listen to me?” 

“I don't know, it did when you were a child. Let's see if you've still got it.”

“Answer his question,” she told it firmly. “Answer any and all questions put to you.”

It cocked its head and responded in a digital female voice. _**“I am repair droid seven.”**_

“What happened to the ship, then? There was a lot of damage.”

_**“Ion storm. Eighty two percent systems failure.”** _

“That ship hasn't moved in over a year. What's taken you so long?”

_**“We did not have the parts.”** _

“What's happened to the crew?” Rose demanded.

_**“We did not have the parts.”** _

“There should have been over fifty people on your ship. Where did they go?” the Doctor pressed.

_**“We did not have the parts,”**_ the droid repeated, and Rose swallowed painfully as things clicked together in her mind.

“Fifty people don't just disappear!” the Doctor said impatiently. “Where? …Oh,” he said slowly. “You didn't have the parts, so you used the crew…”

“The crew?” Mickey asked.

“We found a camera with an eye in it, and there was a heart wired into machinery,” Rose said quietly.

“It was just doing what it was programmed to. Repairing the ship any way it can, with whatever it could find... No one told it the crew weren't on the menu.” The Doctor grimaced slightly. “What did you say the flight deck smelled of?” he asked Rose.

“Someone cooking,” she said with difficulty.

“Flesh plus heat. Barbeque.”

Reinette was looking a little green by now, and the Doctor was reminded of his original question.

“But what are you doing here? You've opened up time windows. That takes _colossal_ energy. Why come here? You could have gone to your repair yard, instead you come to eighteenth century France? Why?”

_**“One more part is required,”**_ it replied, and cocked its head sharply towards Reinette.

“Then why haven't you taken it?” the Doctor asked coldly.

_**“She is incomplete.”** _

“What, so, that's the plan, then? Just keep opening up more and more time windows, scanning her brain, checking to see if she's ‘done’ yet?”

“Why her?” Rose broke in. “You've got all of history to choose from. Why specifically her?”

_**“We are the same.”** _

“We are not the same!” Reinette shouted at it furiously. “We are in no sense the same!”

_**“We are the same.”** _

“Get out of here. Get out of here this instant!” she demanded, but the Doctor reached to stop her.

“Reinette, no!”

It was too late. The droid had already triggered its teleport and was shifting away.

“It's back on the ship!” the Doctor shouted, and dashed back to the mirror window. “Rose, take Mickey and Arthur. Get after it. Follow it.”

“What for?”

“We need to find the main controls. Don't approach it, just watch what it does. I’ll follow in a minute.”

“Hold on,” Something sunk in. “Arthur?”

“Good name for a horse,” he explained.

Rose shook her head despairingly. “No, you're not keeping the horse.”

“I’ll take him for walks, feed him and clean his messes, now go go go!”

The Doctor pushed the window shut behind her and turned to Reinette solemnly.

“Reinette, you're going to have to trust me. I need to find out what they're looking for. There's only one way I can do that. It won't hurt a bit.”

Slowly, gently, he placed his fingerprints over her temples.

“Fireplace man, you are inside my mind...”

“Oh dear, Reinette. You've had some cowboys in here,” he murmured as he sifted through fragile memories that had been mechanically scrutinized far too many times.

 

+++

 

Rose left Arthur in the first corridor because she couldn’t ride him, and leading him would be too difficult --mostly because the horse couldn’t see a difference between hay and her hair. She comforted him with a peppermint and a kiss on the nose, and in a moment of weakness even pondered whether the TARDIS might conjure up a stable if she asked nicely enough.

She and Mickey wandered down the corridor alone.

“So, that Doctor, eh?” Mickey started slyly.

“Just stop right there, Mickey,” she interrupted wearily. “He’s only known her for a few minutes, and half of that time she was eight.”

“Ooh, classic denial. Just look at his track record: Madame de Pompadour, Sarah Jane Smith… Cleopatra.”

“Cleopatra?” She huffed. “He mentioned her once!”

“Yeah, but he called her Cleo,” he snickered, pushing ahead of her. Rose would have sniped back, but after a hissing noise a mechanical arm clamped around Mickey’s neck.

“Mickey!” she gasped, but as she lifted her gun something hooked her neck too. 

She struggled uselessly against the velvet arm biting into her throat until something sharp and double-pronged stabbed into the side of her neck. The sound of her own pounding heart slowly faded from her ears, along with her other senses. She sagged lifeless against the droid.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aside from one particular incident, most of the changes in this chapter--while still important--are slight. (However, the next chapter has some heavy alterations and might be my favorite!)

“You are in my memories… You walk among them,” Reinette murmured as the Doctor crawled deeper into her conscious memory.

“If there's anything you don't want me to see, just imagine a door and close it. I won't look.” 

“To walk among the memories of another living soul… Do you ever get used to this?” Reinette asked lightly.

“I don't make a habit of it.”

“How can you resist?” 

The Doctor could feel her mind wandering in an unwelcome direction.

“What age are you?”

“So impertinent a question so early in the conversation. How promising,” Reinette said coyly.

“No, not my question, theirs. You're twenty three and for some reason, that means you're not old enough.”

The Doctor felt something stirring in Reinette’s mind and sensed her darkened mood. “Sorry, you might find old memories reawakening. Side effect.”

“Oh, such a lonely childhood!” she mumbled.

“It’ll pass, stay with me.”

Her brow creased with concentration. “Oh, Doctor, so lonely, so very very alone,” she gasped, pity in her voice.

The Doctor frowned. “What do you mean, lonely? You’ve never been alone in your life—” His eyes snapped open. “Wait a minute, when did you start calling me Doctor?”

“Such a lonely little boy,” she continued, her voice breaking. “Lonely then and lonelier now!” Uneasy, the Doctor left her mind and her eyes opened too. “How do you bear it? Your only comfort is the yellow girl… the one who burnt with gold.”

The Doctor stepped back abruptly, a mixture of anger and hurt in his eyes. “What did you do?”

“A door, once opened, can be stepped through in either direction,” Reinette explained, her eyes still distant from the memories imprinted to her mind. “Who is she, Doctor? And why does she always walk away?”

Her eyes sparked hopefully as they searched the Doctor’s face. He swallowed hard and his gaze dropped to the floor.

“Oh, Doctor. My lonely Doctor,” she murmured. Then her eyes took on a cunning light. “Dance with me.”

Something inside the Doctor twisted painfully. If she had looked into his mind… then she knew what those words would mean to him. “I can't.” 

Her lips curled flirtatiously. “ _Dance_ with me.”

“I _can't.”_ He gritted his teeth, his mind flickering back to Rose and Mickey, waiting for him.

“Doctor… Doctor who?” She claimed the Doctor’s full attention. “It's more than just a secret, isn't it?”

He stared at her, disbelieving. “What did you see?” 

“That there comes a time, Time Lord, when every lonely little boy must learn how to dance.”

 

Whatever she knew about his name, that information wasn’t safe. In fact, it was deadly. For her own safety, a woman whose brain was being scanned every few years couldn’t be left with that sort of knowledge.

So yes, he followed her.

In the expansive ballroom of Versailles he was at her side constantly, and he confirmed quickly that her words had been a bluff. Reinette had merely snatched a fistful of memories and sensed the cryptic vacancy where his name ought to have been.

His duty done, the Doctor would have returned to the spaceship… but he stopped himself. The ‘uncrowned queen of France’ would fade all too soon, and this could be his only chance to be part of her story ...before it ended. And what was he so worried about? Rose could handle herself. And she would be… with Mickey. The Doctor had to admit that last factor didn’t please him, but then of course, he had been selfish. Very, very, selfish.

In the past he had taken desperate measures to keep her by his side, and his pride had pushed Rose to choose between her two worlds. In the end she had chosen him, but he didn’t deserve that. If he hadn’t interfered, she and Mickey might have been happy together—or somewhere thereabouts. He owed Rose a chance at happiness.

With each hour that ticked further into the night the Doctor reminded himself that this was a selfless thing to do.

 

+++

 

Rose’s eyelids fluttered open, but her vision was swimming. Beyond the fog she could see a colorful shape, and she forced her eyes into focus. She focused in on a porcelain mask and jolted awake.

“Doctor!” The name jumped out instinctively, before she realized its futility. Her straining arms and legs were strapped against a platform propped at an angle. 

Everywhere she looked there were only more of the costumed droids, and all their cruel faces stared at her. Blood pounding in her ears, she noticed Mickey in an identical predicament over her right shoulder.

“Rose? They're going to chop us up, just like the crew. They're going to chop us up and stick us all over their stupid spaceship.” Mickey was babbling with terror, and the droids seemed to be noticing. “And where's the Doctor? Where's your precious Doctor now? He's been gone for flipping hours, that's where he is!”

“Hush, Mickey,” she whispered, but a droid was already approaching. The eerie clownish face leered down, mocking her fear.

**_“You are compatible.”_ **

Rose looked up at the droid and gave it a tight grin, grateful that robots couldn’t smell fear.

“You might want to think about that… You really, really, might because… me and Mickey… we’re not crew. And, you see, we didn't come here alone. And trust me, you wouldn't want to mess with our designated driver.”

A sharp, spinning tool was thrust towards her face, so close that she could smell the sour tang of dried, crusted blood. She forced her lungs to take in the air.

“Ever heard of the Daleks?” she rushed on, just playing for time. _Where is he?_ She glowered at her captor. “Remember them? No? Well, there’s a reason for that… _We_ happened to them! They have names for us out there. They have myths... scattered through different times and cultures. Ever heard of the big bad wolf? And our friend, they called him the--”

There was a sudden riotous clatter in the distance, and a noise that sounded distinctly like a caterwauling Timelord.

_“I could've daaanced all niiight, I could've daaanced all niiight!”_

“They called him the… They called him the… the…”

Rose watched, disbelieving, as the Doctor lurched into the room, swishing wine around a goblet with his tie wrapped around his head. He spun closer as though dancing, and continued that horrible wail of his. Or, hold on… was he quoting My Fair Lady?

“And still have begged for moooore… I could've spread my wings and done a thou…”

“Oh, look at what the cat dragged in. The Oncoming Storm,” she snapped. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Well,” he drawled. “Among other things, I think just invented the banana daiquiri a few centuries early. Do you know, they've never even seen a banana before?” He snickered tipsily and staggered towards Rose. She searched desperately for a glimmer of keen wit in his eyes, but dark lenses hid them from her. 

“Always take a banana to a party, Rose. Bananas are good...” 

As the Doctor leaned in conspiratorially, she finally met his eyes, which simmered with a dark light she couldn’t place. Was it guilt? The Doctor swung away, but not before his thumb brushed her wrist like a promise.

“Oh ho brilliant! It's you!” he exclaimed giddily, pointing and lurching towards a cluster of droids. They just stood there, watching him. It occurred to Rose that the original crew members might have left them accustomed to drunkenness.

“You're my favourite you are— you are the _best!_ Do you know why? Because you're so _thick._ You're Mister Thick Thick Thickity Thick Face from Thicktown, Thickania. And so's your dad!” He turned back to Rose and Mickey.

“Do you know what they were scanning Reinette's brain for?” He sniggered. “Her _milometer._ They want to know how old she is. Know why? ‘Cause this ship is thirty-seven years old, and they think that when Reinette is thirty-seven, when she's ‘complete’, then her brain will be compatible. So, that's what you're missing, isn't it?” He stared straight into the mask of the nearest droid. “Hmm? Command circuit. Your computer. Your ship needs a brain. And for some reason, God knows what, only the brain of Madame de Pompadour will do.”

**_“The brain is compatible.”_ **

“Compatible?” the Doctor scoffed. “If you believe that, you probably believe this is a glass of wine.”

In one deft motion the Doctor slipped off the mask and wig and dumped the goblet’s contents over the geared interior. He replaced the mask and as the droid wound down, patted it on the head. He dropped his sunglasses to the floor.

“Multigrain anti-oil. If it moves, it doesn't.”

He deactivated the rest by flipping a lever, and immediately rushed over to Rose. He activated the sonic screwdriver, the metal restraints snapped open, and she and Mickey both slid to the floor. He steadied Rose by her arms, studying her face tentatively.

“You’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, but his eyes retained the same peculiar pain as before.

“I’m alive too, thanks for nothin’,” Mickey grumbled, rubbing his neck and wincing.

The Doctor released Rose and tugged his tie down to his neck. “Time we got the rest of the ship turned off.”

“Are those things safe?” Mickey asked.

“Yeah, safe. Safe and thick, way I like them.”

The Doctor moved towards to the console riddled with controls. “Okay, all the time windows are controlled from here. I need to close them all down.” He patted his pockets. “Zeus plugs. Where are my Zeus plugs? I had them a minute ago. I was using them as castanets.”

“Why didn't they just open a time window to when she was thirty seven?” asked Rose.

“With the amount of damage to these circuits, they did well to hit the right century. Trial and error after that.” The Doctor frowned at the computer. “The windows aren't closing. Why won't they close?”

Rose’s ears caught a pinging noise and the whirring of gears. “What's that?” she whispered. The Doctor froze.

“I don't know. Incoming message?”

“From who?” Mickey asked.

“Report from the field. One of them must still be out there with Reinette! That's why I can't close the windows, there's an override!”

The Droid beside the Doctor suddenly wound back to life and expelled the anti-oil over the Doctor’s converse.

“Well, that was a bit clever,” he said weakly.

The room was suddenly filled with ticking as mechanical limbs began to shift.

“Right... Many things about this are not good.” The Doctor backed into Rose. “Message from one of your little friends?” he shouted defiantly. “Anything interesting?”

**_“She is complete. It begins.”_ **

Every teleport activated, and after a faint hissing noise the time travelers were alone.

“One of them must have found the right time window, and now it's time to send in the troops. And this time they're bringing back her head!”

The Doctor worked agitatedly on the controls. Anxiously, Rose approached him. 

“Shouldn’t we warn her?” 

 

+++

 

The light was soft and warm with candlelight in Versailles, and Rose felt out of place in her faded jeans and t-shirt.

Her shadow reached towards the shadowed room at the end of the hall, which was ornamented with various musical trinkets and a grand piano in the center. A woman in a silky magenta gown stood by the window, but turned at the sound of her footsteps. The startled face Rose saw belonged to a woman; the young lady of before had passed with the years.

“Madame de Pompadour… we haven't got a lot of time.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, silent readers, and thanks for coming this far! This is one of my favorite chapters, so I'd really like to hear your thoughts on it.
> 
> Have a lovely Christmas!

Rose led her to a well-lit area beside the time-window, where she stood while Reinette sat down on a plush velvet chair. Her eyes followed Rose expectantly.

“I've come to warn you that they'll be here in five years,” Rose began softly, carefully.

“Five years?” Reinette repeated skeptically.

“Some time after your thirty-seventh birthday,” Rose amended. “I um… I can't give you an exact date. It's a bit random. But they're coming. It's going to happen. In a way, for us, it's already happening. I'm sorry, it's hard to explain and there isn’t time.”

“There are five years!”

“For  _ you _ . I haven't got five minutes.” Rose fidgeted, instinctively glancing at the tapestry concealed exit. “Um… let’s say there’s a vessel, a ship, a sort of sky ship, and it's full of… well, different bits of your life in different rooms, all jumbled up. --I told you it was complicated, sorry,”

Rose cringed at her own fumbling words, but Reinette listened quietly

“There is a vessel in your world… where the days of my life are pressed together like the chapters of a book, so that you may step from one to the other without increase of age… while I, weary traveler… must always take the slower path?” Reinette glanced up at Rose for verification of the picture, and Rose gave a startled smile.

“Effectively, yeah,” she admitted. 

In the following pause, Reinette began to study Rose’s face. “I recognize you, do I not?”

“Well, ten years ago…” she began, but the woman stood and leaned in close.

“No, earlier than that.” Madame de Pompadour’s narrowed eyes stared into her for long moments before widening. “You were there before the Doctor… On that first night of the monsters, there was a girl in the fireplace. Through all those years you were at his side--”

Rose nodded and a grin tugged the corner of her mouth. “Hope you don’t mind me saying, but you were a pretty cute kid.” Reinette’s eyes lifted slightly, and Rose had the prickly suspicion that the woman was inspecting her hair. Maybe bleached blondes were less than common in pre-revolutionary France. 

“Well... back to our problem--”

“Tell me, Rose. Is he... Do you think this angel worth the monsters?” 

The question’s implication gave Rose pause. The Doctor an angel? She eyed the French woman for a moment, and felt her heart sink at the warm intensity in Reinette’s eyes. This woman was in love.

Reflexively, Rose nearly listed reasons that the Doctor was  _ not _ an angel, but she stifled it, conceding the effect the Doctor could have. How could this grown-up little girl have understood him to be anything but magical and heroic?

“I find it hard to imagine the Doctor without monsters, to be honest. It’s just who he is… He wouldn’t have it any other way, and frankly, neither would I.” 

“So there we have it,” Reinette said coldly, and Rose stiffened. But unexpectedly, she saw pain in the woman’s flashing eyes. “Is it too much to ask? Am I always to be left half a man’s heart?”

The woman turned away abruptly, and clasped her arms across her chest.

A knife of pain pierced Rose’s chest, and she stared at Reinette’s back, reeling. He wouldn’t have-- But then, it wouldn’t be the first strange thing the Doctor had done that day. But-- No. Not him. He couldn’t have done anything to give this woman any basis for a claim. That wasn’t the Doctor. 

“If you  _ do _ own half of the Doctor’s heart, I won’t be claiming the leftovers,” Rose said quietly, and firmly. “--I can promise you that.”

Thoughtful blue eyes met her dusky hazel, and empty seconds ticked by. Rose drew in a slow breath before she trusted herself enough to continue. “But before… this… goes any further, I’m not the Doctor’s-- we aren’t together.”

To Rose’s surprise, Reinette seemed bothered by this news. “No?” After a moment she sighed. 

“You need not be concerned over my involvement with the Doctor,” she said at last. Her eyes lifted, and Rose saw misery in them. “It’s common knowledge to the court that my recent… troubles… bearing children prevent me from going in to the King. I stay as his friend and adviser, but… I could no longer be with the Doctor as I wished.”

Rose absorbed this, and nodded. The other woman shook herself and lifted her chin.

“So, in five years these creatures will return. What can be done?”

“The trick is to keep them talking,” Rose began uncomfortably. So much was uncertain, and _anything_ could go wrong.

“They're kind of programmed to respond to you now. You won't be able to stop them… but you might be able to delay them a bit.”

“Until?” 

“Until we can get there.”

“He's coming, then?”

“I promise… He’ll be there when you need him.”

Reinette’s wry smile was the first glimmer of light Rose had seen on her face. It suited her.

“It’s the way it has always been, with angels and monsters. It seems that you cannot have one without the other.” 

“Rose? Rose? ”

Mickey’s voice snapped both women to attention. He pushed aside the tapestry, unveiling the ship corridor. “Rose! The time window where she's thirty seven. We found it. Right under our noses.”

Reinette’s eyes locked on the time-window and she rushed for it before Rose could grab her.

“No, you can't go in there, the Doctor will go mad!”

Rose was at Reinette’s heels as she swept into the spaceship. The honeyed light transformed to murky blue interrupted by red flashes cast unnaturally over the aristocrat’s silken apparel. Reinette stopped-- frozen, and in the shadows Rose watched, one with the chilly tones of the hull.

Agonizingly out of place boxed in by cruel steel walls, Reinette shivered. Tendrils of sweltering steam swirled around her skirts, carrying the biting stench of roasting human flesh.

“So this is his world,” she whispered.

A discord of screams rose in the distance, and Reinette whirled to Rose, sheer terror in her eyes. “What was that?”

“The time window,” Mickey broke in as he hurried away. “The Doctor fixed an audio link.”

Silently Rose watched her. Now, of all times, she could see the little girl in her face. Reinette looked to her now, the time-traveler who held the only kind human face in the world of nightmares and monsters.

“Those screams… Is that my future?”

“Yeah. I'm sorry,” Rose said hoarsely.

“Then I must take the slower path,” she said softly, but soon the fear returned to her face.

“ _Are you there? Can you hear me? I need you now… you promised. The clock on the mantel is broken! It is time!”_

Her words trembled. “That's my voice.”

Mickey was running back. “Rose come on, we've got to go. There's…” he glanced at Reinette. “—there's a problem.”

“Give me a moment,” Rose murmured, and after a flicker of hesitation, Mickey ran back to the Doctor. Rose moved towards Reinette and shyly touched her arm.

“Are you okay?” Her concerned eyes searched the woman’s face.

“No, I'm very afraid,” Reinette replied honestly, but she managed a smile. “But one may suffer a world of demons for the sake of an angel, and I shall not live the next years of my life in fear.”

She paused, and took Rose’s hand in hers.

“You know, Rose… In the dreams of my childhood the fireplace man never fought off the nightmares alone, though I had forgotten until now. The Doctor has not been my only guardian angel, I should think. I owe you a debt that I could never repay.”

“You don’t have to thank me. Just… take care of yourself, yeah?”

Reinette nodded before retreating to her world, but her future still pleaded and echoed down the corridor.

“ _Doctor! Doctor!_ ”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes a scene that wasn't in the episode -though it should have been. (Sorry it's so short!)

The time had come, and Madame de Pompadour was crouching before the fireplace, begging something beyond the flames to respond."Doctor!" she cried, one last time.

Louis approached again. "We must go. No one is coming to help us!" He was doubtless questioning her sanity, but she was beyond caring.

Mechanically sharp footsteps marched into the room, and Madame de Pompadour rose to her feet and steeled herself to turn. Three androids stood armed and awaiting her in the doorway.

Thirty years of half-forgotten nightmares came flooding back.

_**"You are complete. You will come."**_

 

\+ + +

 

Rose skidded into the room breathless, confronting a time window spanning the entire opposite wall. It overlooked a festive ballroom flooded by panicked people being herded to the edges by droids.

"You found it, then?"

The Doctor was fighting a desperate battle with the window controls, growling with frustration.

"They knew I was coming—they blocked it off!"

 

\+ + +

 

"Where are we going?" Reinette demanded. The droid jerked her by the arm down the corridor.

 " ** _The teleport has limited range. We must have proximity to the time portal._ ** "

"Your words mean nothing," she spat. "You are nothing!"

 

\+ + +

 

There was nowhere left to run.

Reinette was released after being hauled into the ballroom, while Rose watching in frustrated agony.

"We can use the Tardis!"

"We can't use the Tardis, we're part of events now!"

Rose's tense, shaking fingers raked her hair.

"She trusted me…"

All of the droids turned towards Madame de Pompadour. Time was running out, and her so-called guardian angels were helpless. Rose forced herself to scavenge for something-anything-that would keep Reinette's head from rolling to the checkered tiles.

"Well, can't we just smash through?" Mickey spoke up.

"Hyperplex this side, plate glass the other. We need a truck!"

"We don't have a truck."

"I know we don't have a truck!

 "We have a horse!" The words left her mouth as quick as a thought, meaning registering only after she said them.

"No! Smash the glass, smash the time window. There'd be no way back," the Doctor insisted, but the weak edge to his voice told Rose that he was arguing only with himself.

 

\+ + +

 

Madame de Pompadour strode forward with composure, looking down upon at the screeching party-goers.

"Could everyone just calm down? _Please_ ." Instantly the screams and weeping began to hush. "Such a _commotion_. Such distressing noise… Kindly remember that this is Versailles! This is the Royal Court, and we are French!"

Reinette turned to face the droid coldly.

"I have made a decision, and my decision is _no_ , I shall not be going with you today. I have seen your world, and I have no desire to set foot there again."

 " **_We do not require your feet._ ** "

The androids at her shoulders shoved her to her knees.

 

\+ + +

 

The Doctor stood frozen. His eyes were shut tight, blocking out everything but the battle inside.

His struggle was selfish -he knew that- but it didn't end until he opened his eyes.

Rose smiled at him. A slight, aching smile that meant she understood. In the end that was all he needed.

He closed the gap between them and took her head in his hands before she could speak. In the dim light her eyes gleamed with tears, and he studied their honeyed maps one last time. His fingers whispered over her hair as he leaned in to kiss her forehead, and he heard her soft gasping sob when he let go. He squeezed his eyes shut, whispering into her hair.

"Forget me, Rose Tyler... _Go home_." 

He let her go and grabbed Arthur's bridle, hands wet from her tears.

 

_You just leave us behind… Is that what you're gonna do to me?_

 

"Doctor- wait!"

She was running for him.

If he let her, Rose Tyler would follow him… and as the horse hurtled towards the window, the _what if_ of it begged him to stop.

 

_No. Not to you._

 

That was a promise.

 But it was done. With the impact, the mirror fractured, and the slow path would be walked alone.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter to go after this. I'd love to hear your thoughts!

The masked creature poised its blade at her throat, but Madame de Pompadour's eyes didn't stray from its face. The advice Rose had given was engraved into her mind, a promise whispered from the past.   
  
"You think I fear you, but I do not fear you even now."  The words were largely for the purpose of soothing the childlike terror racing in her chest. "-You are merely the nightmare of my childhood -–the monster from under my bed. And if my nightmares can return to plague me, then rest assured…"   
  
She paused for a heartbeat and fell to a whisper. _"...so will yours."_   
  
There was a clatter of galloping hooves, and then the mirror over the mantelpiece shattered into a dazzling rain of silver shards. When Reinette saw a brown-suited figure and horse emerge from the showers, an astounded smile lit her face.   
  
Her smile faded as soon as hooves collided with checkerboard tiles and the Doctor went soaring over Arthur's snout. He rolled and staggered to his feet unharmed- though he rubbed the back of his head, wincing.   
  
"Good day, Madame de Pompadour. I believe I'm here to fix your clock."   
  
"What the hell is going on?" King Louis XV demanded, but for once in his life was ignored.   
  
The Doctor stalked over to the chief droid and knocked off its mask, revealing a clockwork skeleton that evoked gasps and whispers through the crowd. It cocked its blade at the Doctor's throat.   
  
"Forget it," he snapped, acid in his voice. "It's _over._ For you and for me." His eyes lifted to the shattered mirror that led to nothing but a brick wall. It was all on the other side now… _Everything._   
  
How many more promises would he make before he ran out of days to break them?   
  
"Talk about seven years bad luck. Try three thousand…"   


  
\+ + +   


  
On the other side of the galaxy, three thousand years away, thick wedges of the fractured time-window lay scattered across the floor. Rose Tyler could not look away.   
  
"What happened?" Mickey quavvered. "Where did the time window go? How's he gonna get back?"   
  
A single line of silver trailed down her cheek.   
  


\+ + +   


  
The android repeatedly triggered the teleport, but to no use. The Doctor watched it coldly, uncaring now that it was a creature incapable of malevolence or any other kind of feeling.   
  
"The link with the ship is broken," he told it flatly. "No way back. You don't have the parts… How many ticks left in that clockwork heart, huh? A day? An hour? It's _over._ Accept that."   
  
The glass and clockwork machine's ticking began to falter, and then wound down to stillness. One by one, the other droids followed suit, and the lifeless skeletons bowed over or crashed to pieces against the tiles.   
  
Reinette seemed frozen in place as she watched, and the Doctor remembered why he was there.   
  
"You all right?" he asked, helping her up.   
  
"What's happened to them?" she breathed, surveying the wreckage. The Doctor's eyes were distant now, as if searching for something no longer there.   
  
"They've stopped. They have no purpose now."   


  
\+ + +

  
  
Every single one, walled off or shattered.   
  
Rose had combed every knob and lever of the control room before agreeing to move to the room with the TARDIS. Although she kept looking, she had already known what she'd find: A dead ship, and more irreparably shattered windows.   
  
There was only one exception. She could still see France through the fireplace. She had long since given up shouting through it, praying for him to appear in the chamber beyond. It had taken a while to realize it wasn't real anymore. Like the last residual image of a long dead star, she was looking at a photograph. A moment of frozen time.   
  
"Just have the TARDIS take us home, Rose… He's not coming back," Mickey pleaded, but she fixed her gaze beyond the skylight on the stars.   


  
\+ + +   


  
The Doctor's eyes searched the same stars through a window in Versailles. He heard the whisper of Reinette's skirt over the rug as she approached, but he only glanced at her.   
  
"You know all their names, don't you?" she said. "I saw that in your mind… The name of every star."   
  
"What's in a name?" The Doctor shrugged. "Names are just titles. Titles don't tell you anything."   
  
"Like _the Doctor,"_ Reinette volunteered with a smile.   
  
"And that which we call a Rose by any other name would smell as sweet."   
  
The Doctor smiled. The aching smile faded quickly, and when his eyes returned to the window-glass his face had closed. Madame de Pompadour watched all of this closely, and understood it, but found that its significance did not wound her.   
  
She suddenly felt very tired, but as her eyes followed his to the window, her mind drifted towards something that she did still long for.   
  
"I have often wished to see those stars a little closer. Just for a while, I think."   
  
The Doctor nodded, and looked at her more attentively.   
  
"In saving me, you trapped yourself. Did you know that would happen?" she asked.   
  
He shrugged with a half-smile. "Pretty much."   
  
"And you left Rose behind?" Reinette asked, with the concern of a friend.   
  
"I did, didn't I?" His voice was a sardonic cocktail of bitterness and amusement. Bitterness bubbled to the top. "Catch me doing that again."   
  
Reinette searched his face. "There were many doors between my world and yours. Can you not use one of the others?"   
  
The Doctor shook his head. "When the mirror broke, the shock would have severed all the links with the ship. There'll be a few more broken mirrors and torn tapestries around here, I'm afraid… wherever there was a time window." With that sudden realization he looked sheepish. "I'll… I'll pay for any damage." He hesitated. "Um, that's a thought. I'm going to need money. I was always a bit vague about money… Where do you get money?"   
  
Reinette laughed lightly. "So, here you are, one of the angels… stuck on the slow path here with me."   
  
The Doctor drew a sip from the wineglass she had handed him and spat it back into the cup, grimacing like a disgusted schoolboy.   
  
"Yep, the slow path…" the Doctor mumbled, his mind gone from her again, and it was then Reinette knew that in good conscience she could delay no longer. She placed her glass on the windowsill.   
  
Her mind returned to that cold, haunting world which was home to the Doctor and to Rose. The fact that it was so unalterably foreign to her cut deeply, but if her world could never be the Doctor's, there was only one thing to do.   
  
"It's a pity," she said with false brightness. "I think I would have enjoyed the slow path."   
  
The Doctor blinked at her numbly. "Well, I'm not going anywhere."   
  
"Oh, aren't you?" This time her smile was genuine, and as she walked down the hall he began to follow. "Someone is waiting."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the final chapter. Thanks so much to those who have read and commented. I hope you enjoyed it!

Reinette waited by the fireplace in her chamber, eyeing him expectantly. “It's not a copy, it's the original. I had it moved here and was exact in every detail.”

“The fireplace…” he said slowly as he approached it, a flicker of hope taking root. “The fireplace from your bedroom! When did you do this?”

“Many years ago, in the hope that a door once opened, may someday open again. One never quite knows when one needs one's Doctor.” The Doctor grinned at her. “It appears undamaged. Do you think it will still work?”

“You broke the bond with the ship when you moved it. Which means it was offline when the mirror broke. That's what saved it. But…” He leaned in, tapping at the wood, his brow furrowed with concentration. “—the link is basically physical, and it's still physically here… Which might just mean, if I'm lucky… If I'm very very very very very _very_ lucky…” Suddenly his face lit up and he hooted victoriously.

“What?”

“Loose connection!” He pulled out his sonic and quickly activated the link in the wood. “Need to get a man in.”

He kicked the frame, and the wall started rotating. “Wish me luck!” he quipped. Was it too much to hope that Rose had waited?

“But…”

The fireplace closed behind him before he could see the plea in her eyes.

 

+++

 

Rose leaned against the cool wall of the fireplace room with weary lids closed, but the familiar clunk of machinery made her snap awake.

Before the Doctor had even dropped from the mantle he caught sight of her, and his bony face crinkled as he smiled brighter. She found herself scooped up into his arms, laughing with relief as she buried her face in his shoulder.

“How long did you wait for me?”

“Five and a half hours!”

The Doctor grinned. “Great! Always wait five and a half hours.”

Mickey came in the middle of the hug, and the Doctor nearly embraced him too before thinking better of it. “And I see that Mickey the Idiot managed to survive his first trip!” He pumped the bemused Mickey’s hand up and down as he beamed at him approvingly.

“Is she safe?” Rose asked abruptly, but didn’t wait for an answer before dashing over to the fireplace and dropping to her knees.

Reinette was sitting on the other side, dressed in the same jeweled gown she had worn in the ballroom. She had an indecipherable expression etched in her face that softened to a smile when she recognized Rose.

“Reinette!” Rose beamed. “After the mirror broke I couldn’t see what happened—but I see the Doctor took care of everything.”

The Timelord in question crouched down by her shoulder, and gave the women a cocky smirk as he gestured towards the TARDIS.

“Better make sure my old girl forgives me. Be back in two clicks!” As he bounded off down the hall, Rose saw the look on Reinette’s face and stifled a laugh.

“He’s checking on his ship,” she explained, and Reinette nodded with a wry quirk of her lips.

“Ah yes… Men and their toys?” Her eyebrows lifted playfully.

“Yeah,” Rose laughed. “Though it really is alive, in a way.”

“Shall you depart, now that the monsters have been defeated?” asked Reinette, and suddenly Rose understood the unreadable expression of before.

She hesitated. Was this what happened when she and the Doctor moved on? She would’ve said goodbye without a second thought.

Reinette’s gaze flickered between her and the TARDIS beyond, and Rose recognized curiosity.

“Would you like to see the ship?” she asked impulsively, but Reinette hesitated. Rose pressed on. “And I don’t mean just to look at it… Do you want to see the stars?”

“More than anything,” the woman breathed, her eyes dancing, and a Rose gave her a broad grin.

“Then go to that window and pick a star… any star! Have a bag packed. I’m gonna tell the Doctor.”

She dashed down the corridor. Ever since Sarah Jane refused an invitation, Rose had felt the absence of another female on the TARDIS. Well, if three was already a crowd, they might as well have a proper entourage --for a trip or two, at least. The uncrowned queen of France had history to fulfil.

When she reached the TARDIS, the Doctor’s gaze jerked towards her, and he straightened, his brows dipping into an odd expression. “Goodbyes over and done with already? Wish you’d waited for me.”

“She’s coming along! --Oh, don’t worry, she won’t be wanting more than a couple trips.” 

“But… you left the window,” the Doctor said faintly, but she was making for the fireplace.

 

+++

 

“Reinette… Reinette?”

Reinette’s side of the fireplace was dimmer than Rose remembered it being, and the woman was nowhere to be seen. “Reinette?”

The fireplace turned again, and the Doctor came up behind her. “Rose,” he whispered urgently, but just then someone entered the room.

“Oh, hello,” said Rose with a slight smile, recognizing the King.

The man seemed older now, grey haired with new lines written around the keen eyes that lit on the Doctor with recognition. “You just missed her… She'll be in Paris by six,” he said in a low voice. Louis’s gaze stayed on the Doctor’s face. “Good Lord… She was right. She said you never looked a day older. So many years since I saw you last, but not a day of it on your face.”

He turned to Rose as well. “And you must be Rose. She spoke of you many times… Often wished you'd visit again. You know how women are.”

Normally Rose would have reacted to the antiquated comment, but the past tense of his words rang in her ears. The Doctor watched her face wash pale as it hit her.

_ Loose connection _ , he had said. His jaw tightened.  _ No, not this. For Rose, not this _ .

A drawer was slid open, and Louis handed the Doctor a sealed letter which he took without comment. There was a rattling of carriage wheels out the window, and the King turned.

“There she goes…” he said quietly. “The Marquise won’t have good weather for her journey.”

Heavy rain streamed down the window glass and poured over the dark carriage which led an ornamented casket towards the gate.

“Leaving Versailles for the last time. Only forty two when she died. Too young. Too young… Illness took her in the end. She always did work too hard.”

Rose stared after the carriage, her fingers pale as ice as they traced the rain-streaked pane.

King Louis’s eyes followed the unopened letter in the Doctor’s hand. “What does she say?” Without his eyes moving from the window, the Doctor slipped it under his jacket, and the other man turned away. “Of course. Quite right.”

 

+++

 

Mickey was waiting for them in the TARDIS, and didn’t miss the look on their faces as they trudged in. He didn’t bother asking. They had excluded him from so much of this adventure without thinking twice.

“Why’d they think they could repair the ship with the head of Madame de Pompadour?” he asked, because even though he had been given a back seat for this adventure, Mickey Smith had payed attention.

“Why did any of this have to happen?” Rose retorted, eyes red as they flickered towards Mickey, though of course it wasn’t his fault.

The Doctor took his time approaching the console before speaking. “We'll probably never know. There was massive damage in the computer memory banks; it probably got confused. The Tardis can close down the time windows now the droids are gone… Should stop it causing any more trouble.”

Rose’s eyes followed the Doctor’s empty face as he started working again at the knobs and levers of the console. As she went to him Mickey Smith retreated down the TARDIS corridor, feeling like an intruder. He had almost thought he could prove himself… be part of their team this time. But nothing had changed.

 

“Are you alright?” she asked, her honey eyes probing.

“I’m always alright.”

After a long moment her eyes left him, and he knew that his lifeless smile hadn’t fooled her. It never did. He turned to the console. The sooner they this heartless place behind, the better.

“Doctor…” The rough grain in her throat was a reprimand he deserved, and he peered carefully into her downcast face.

“...just a few hours ago she was that sweet little girl, and now…”

She faltered, and his hand covered hers, pressing gently over the console. The Doctor hardly remembered making the motion. He focused on warming the fragile, icy skin under his fingers until her gaze woke him.

She looked at him cautiously, deliberately, and t hat was his only warning of the gently spoken blow to come.

“Is this what it’s like to watch us wither?”

The Doctor’s breath stilled in his chest.  _ Us _ , she had said. Well... she knew now.

She knew everything, and yet still had the gall to look into his selfish life with compassion. She had always been like this, and that was why it hurt. How many heartbeats were left inside the girl of gold and starlight? He wove his fingers through hers tightly, defying uncertain time and his own cowardice.

He reached into his jacket for the letter. He broke the seal with a deft twist of the blood-red wax, and positioned it so that Rose could read as well.

 

_ My dear Doctor, and my dearest Rose, _

_ The path has never seemed more slow, and yet I fear I am nearing its end. There have been times when you, my lonely travelers, seem little more than a dream, but I have not lost hope. _

_ This letter began as a farewell, should you return too late, but I think I shall not have need of it. I have glimpsed the worlds you drift between, and know that all things are possible. Still, come quickly, for my days grow shorter now, and I am so very weak. _

_ Godspeed, my angels. _

 

The dwindling flames of the fireplace flashed through the TARDIS scanner, but by the press of a button its light faded, leaving the shadowed room hushed and lifeless.

 

+++

 

The TARDIS leaves the spaceship to retreat into the vortex, no longer covering a woman’s portrait, labelled Madame de Pompadour, 1721-1764.  The drifting cylinder ship continues to roll lifeless through space, and as a wing lifts, it reveals the title of the _SS Madame de Pompadour._

 

 

The End.


End file.
